


You're Going to Remember This One

by badgirlcarly



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Paddling, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgirlcarly/pseuds/badgirlcarly
Summary: Ray does something death defyingly reckless, so Crow Horse decides the standard punishment is not appropriate. Or: Ray makes a bad decision and gets the worst spanking of his life.





	You're Going to Remember This One

  
“You can't be taking stupid risks like this,” Crow Horse yelled, as angry as Ray had ever heard him. Ray had thought maybe he'd be at least a _little_ happy that Ray hadn't been shot, but apparently that was not going to happen.

“Risk is an occupational hazard in my line of work,” Ray said. He went to the refrigerator to take out an ice pack, which he pressed to his temple. 

“You ain't a one man army!” Crow Horse roared. “Shit like like this is why you have backup!”

Ray frowned. Crow Horse _did_ have a point: calling for backup would have been a good idea. But Ray was so used to working undercover, no partner, no safety net, that the thought honestly hadn't occurred to him. 

“I'm sorry,” Ray said. “I'll remember next time. I promise.”

Crow Horse paced, huffing, and Ray could swear he saw smoke coming out when Crow Horse exhaled. He thought maybe he'd better make himself scarce. 

Ray put the ice pack back in the freezer. 

“I think I'll go for a run,” he said, and then Crow Horse was on him the second he turned toward the door, grabbing Ray by the collar and dragging him into the center of the house. 

“You ain't going nowhere until you've got a good lesson drilled into your butt,” Crow Horse said, and Ray frowned, dragging his feet. He definitely didn't want a spanking, but he'd known the possibility was on the table since Crow Horse had stuffed Ray into his cruiser at the crime scene, a litany of Lakota curses erupting from his mouth. 

Crow Horse told Ray to strip, and Ray complied, trying not to look too obvious about watching Crow Horse move around the room searching for something. When he found what he was looking for and brought it over to the bed, Ray frowned: rope? 

“Turn around,” Crow Horse said, and Ray turned his back to him. Crow Horse pulled Ray's arms back, held them together as he bound them with the rope. It wasn't uncomfortable, it was just new, so it left Ray uneasy. 

Ray watched, unmoving, as Crow Horse went to the bed and piled up three bed pillows close to the side. Crow Horse half lifted Ray onto the bed and over the pillows, the pillows supporting Ray's chest and belly, leaving his head down and his butt way up. 

Crow Horse was doing something behind him, something Ray couldn't hear well. He tried not to focus on it. He was nervous because of the novelty of the situation, and embarrassed because Crow Horse had left him in such a humiliating position. He ground his teeth together, and waited. 

Crow Horse came back beside him, and he laid out his implements on the bedside table, in Ray's clear view. Ray wished he hadn't. Lined up on the table, shining in the bedside lamp’s yellow lights, were three paddles. The longest and heaviest was 18-inches long and made of birch wood. Then there was a foot long piece of thick plastic with a matrix of holes drilled through it--less air resistance meant more sting. And finally, a ten-inch leather paddle, shorter than the others but chunkier depth wise.

Ray inhaled slowly. Exhaled slowly. He preemptively tried to cover his naked ass with his hands, but realized that he couldn't reach with the way Crow Horse had tied them up. 

“You're gonna remember this one,” Crow Horse said, and then without preamble, he picked up the leather paddle and went to work. 

The first stroke fell hard against Ray's sit spot. Pain erupted in an outline of the paddle, then spread, so his whole butt ached. Usually when Crow Horse paddled him, he left a little time between smacks. Ray could catch his breath a little, and the aggregate pain would seep into the muscles, letting the sharp, immediate pain dull enough to prepare Ray for the next hit. This time, Crow Horse didn't do that. The only time he left between smacks was the time it took to draw back his arm and swing the paddle down again. Ray felt the muscle deep pain punched into a bone ache; the immediate pain was an unending stinging burn. Ray couldn't help it; he started to shout. The paddle would land and Ray would cry out--desperate, formless noises: _AAAAAAH OWWWWW OHHHHH NUUUUUUUUH_

The onslaught stopped, and Ray hopefully, foolishly thought it might be over. But Crow Horse was just loosening up his shoulder, stretching the muscles. Crow Horse stepped beside Ray again. Cued up. 

CRACK. The paddle fell against Ray's ass with renewed fervor, the smacks coming harder and faster than before. Ray kicked his feet, like a toddler mid-tantrum--because that's what this felt like, a childish affliction, and Ray was hurt and Ray was angry, and he had to do something with that hurt and anger, so he kicked out. Crow Horse ignored him; the paddling didn't slow or ease up even for a second. Ray howled: _AAAAAH-AAAAAH NOOOOOOO-OOOOOH NNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG_

Crow Horse paused, but only long enough to set the leather paddle back on the nightstand. He picked up the plastic paddle. 

Ray greedily sucked in some breaths before Crow Horse started in on him again--hard. The plastic paddle was lighter, anyway, and the holes drilled into it gave it less air resistance, which meant it snapped across Ray's butt quick as a wasp sting--and it felt like that, too, hundreds of wasps stabbing against his bruised skin in perfect harmony. Ray's cries became more fractured as he gasped for air: _AAAH AAH AAH OOOH OH OH AW AW AWWWWW_

Crow Horse started bringing the paddle down faster and faster, which Ray would not have thought possible. They were blink fast, one hit coming before you could snap your fingers, and Ray shook with pain, his muscles shivering uncontrollably. 

Crow Horse put the plastic paddle down. Ray had slipped a bit from his place on the pillows, and Crow Horse hoisted him back into position. He rubbed a big, rough hand over Ray's throbbing bottom, and Ray moaned and hid his face against the mattress. His bound hands pulled into fists. 

Crow Horse left him, and Ray squeezed his eyes closed, tears welling behind his eyelashes, because he hadn't forgotten what was coming. The big one, the godfather, the 18-inch, butt cracking master of all paddles. 

Crow Horse didn't say anything. For a moment, he rested the blade of the monster paddle across Ray's punished ass, just to remind him of the weight of it, to remind him of the length, significant enough to cross both cheeks and then some. 

Crow Horse pulled the paddle back. Ray could hear it swooping through the air. 

The attack was brutal. Because of the weight, probably, the smacks were further apart than with the other paddles, but not much. Ray felt like the skin would be scraped from his hide; he felt like his backside would deflate, pounded flat like a ball of clay. Crow Horse kept on. The assault was just as fast, just as hard. Ray sobbed. He wailed, the screams just tangles of vowels: _AAAAAAAAHOOOOOOWWAAAAYYYYOHOHOHOHAAAAAYYYYY_

Crow Horse stopped swinging down the paddle, and Ray had the glimmering, desperate hope that the beating was over. Crow Horse set the paddle down, and Ray silently prayed for Crow Horse to untie his hands and help him up… But instead Crow Horse just hoisted Ray up over the pillows again, where he had slipped out of place. Ray's body went limp. He started sobbing again even before Crow Horse took up paddling him again, because it would never end. He would endure this spanking the rest of his life. 

Crow Horse cracked the big, heavy paddle against Ray's ass and thighs, just as fast and hard as when Ray's punishment had begun. Ray half sobbed, half screamed as the intense, fiery pain came and came and came: _aaahaaahaaahaaah ohhhohhhohhhohhhohhh nooooooooooooo_

Gradually, the spanking slowed. The wallop behind them was the same, but the time between each smack lengthened until none came at all. 

Crow Horse put the big wooden paddle back on the nightstand with the others. He stretched the muscles in his shoulders, the muscles in his hands. 

Ray waited, swallowing his tears, trying to get his breathing back to normal. Crow Horse came to him. He untied Ray's hands, but he told him not to touch; he told him not to move. 

Ray obeyed, but the tears started again; he couldn't take anymore tonight, he _couldn't_.

Ray buried his face in his hands. He felt Crow Horse's weight shift the bed, and Ray's whole body shivered as Crow Horse's fingers ran lightly over his back. Ray prepared himself for another slap, but instead, a tickle--something cool and wet covered every bruised part of him, all the way down to his tender beaten thighs. 

Ray craned his neck back. Crow Horse had draped a cool, wet cloth over Ray's raw, burning flesh. 

Ray sniffled. “Why?”

Crow Horse rubbed Ray's back. The tone of his voice was soft, the look in his eyes gentle. 

“A punishment needs to hurt you,” Crow Horse said, “but I'd never want it to _injure_ you.”

They stayed like that for a while, the cool cloth soothing Ray's well beaten backside, Crow Horse gently rubbing Ray's back. When the cloth wasn't cool anymore, Crow Horse left the bed. He came back with a bottle; Crow Horse gently pulled up the cloth, and then coated his palms with sweet smelling balm from the bottle. He began to rub it over Ray's bruised ass; at first, it hurt, like scratching against a scab, but deep down Ray could feel some of the deep-in pain being rubbed gently away. 

“That was the hardest spanking you've ever given me,” Ray said. 

“I know, honey,” Crow Horse said. “But I know you can't look me in the eye and say you didn't deserve it.”

Crow Horse got up for more ointment, and Ray pulled himself off the pillows and hobbled to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. He stood with his back to the mirror, and then craned his neck over his shoulder to see the damage in the mirror. He was cherry red from just below the dimples in his back all the way to the backs of his knees. His ass was a mess, purple and knotty with bruises, the worst a mottle of near-black running along both sides of his crack. 

“You're gonna remember this one,” Crow Horse had said, and now Ray understood what he meant, understood it in his bones. 

Ray gave his well punished ass a little rub, trying to work free some of the pain. In the corner of the mirror, Ray caught a glimpse of Crow Horse watching him from the bathroom door, another bottle of healing balm in his hands. Ray went to him. He would, it turned out, always go to him. 

  



End file.
